


Laced

by sageness



Category: Canadian 6 Degrees, Hard Core Logo (1996)
Genre: Canon - Movie, M/M, Pre-Canon, Yuletide, Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-01
Updated: 2007-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-03 04:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageness/pseuds/sageness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drugged pwp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [llassah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/llassah/gifts).



> Written for Llassah as a Yuletide 2006 treat.

  


Billy pulled his fingers out of Joe's ass and pushed his cock in. Joe was on his knees, hands splayed on the gray grease-stained wall above the head of the mattress, pushing back onto him, taking it all the way in with a long, drawn-out groan that sounded almost like singing. Then he said, "Yeah," just like he did on stage, and Billy bucked without even meaning to.

"Fuck!" Joe's forehead fell to one arm, and Billy shut his eyes tight, getting some control back over the spinning room.

He opened his eyes, took in the sight of Joe's back, white and sweat-sheened, and withdrew a few inches. Then he fed his dick back into Joe. Then he pulled it out again, mesmerized by the wet and thick and red going in and in and out. Joe was butt-white, except for the stretched-out ring of his asshole. Billy lifted up a little, shoving upwards with his cock, spearing Joe on it.

"Fuck!" Joe was chanting. It was in some kind of rhythm, something more than the in-out-in Billy had set. It was confusing. It was like a song, except a song where Pipe and John were playing two different rhythm tracks and Billy had to weave between, in-out-in-in-out, maybe. He grabbed Joe by the hips and changed it again, made it harder, rougher. Made Joe's chant into an obscene caterwaul. Joe went to his forearms against the plaster. Sweat streaks appeared as Joe slid down to where he could thrust back, slamming his ass back against Billy.

It went on. Billy kept his eyes on Joe's hands, which were still flat against the wall, pink around the fingertips, the nails chewed off. It felt like his dick belonged to somebody else. He wondered what it was going to take to make him come. He wondered what the fuck the weed had been laced with. Joe wasn't hard at all.

"Flip over," he said, pulling out.

Joe shouted, "Motherfucker, ow!" and slapped a hand to his gaping hole.

"Lay down," Billy said, pressing a hand to Joe's chest. It was flushed. A billion tiny pink pin-pricks on white. They moved, jittering with Joe's panting breaths.

Billy followed the line up with his eyes. Joe's mouth was red and wet. He thought about putting his cock in there, dirty cock for a dirty mouth. Billy snickered to himself, straddling Joe's hips. He started stripping his cock, bracing one hand on the sheet next to Joe's shoulder. Joe was staring back at him, but he hardly noticed. All Billy saw was Joe's mouth.

"Fuck," Joe whispered, and Billy came, splattering Joe's belly, chest, and chin. "Fuck."

Billy collapsed onto Joe's wet skin, the world a spinning mottle, all white and pink and gray.


End file.
